Shattered Sentiments
by Masshiro-Ni
Summary: An ever-growing collection of IchiRuki One Shots. Second Chapter: To say that even ruins remained would be an outright lie.
1. Instinct

_Call it dipping my toes in the pond before trying to jump back in. A little bit of IchiRuki to get myself back in shape._

* * *

There was an animal inside of him, and he wasn't talking about the Hollow.

Ever since that first day of misery in the rain, a beast had been born within him that clawed at the walls of his soul. It clawed and climbed its way up to the heights of the skyscrapers of his inner world and bellowed into the gale that filled the storms of those early years just after Masaki's death.

The animal wanted the power to protect - the power that it had lacked back by the riverside when Grand Fisher or Aizen or Ywhach or whoever the hell wanted to take credit for his mother's murder this time had killed her. He'd fought his way to the top of his martial arts school until the day he finally beat Tatsuki, and he'd thought that had been enough.

But the satisfaction had been short lived. He quit the dojo shortly after that, and the animal wandered the streets of Karakura looking for the next challenge; the next chance to prove that he wouldn't lose anything or anyone ever again.

And then she walked into his life.

Ichigo hadn't felt hopeless for a long time. Karakura was small, but for the longest time, it had felt like the whole world to the boy. He stood on top of that world. He was confident he had all the power he needed until Hollows had become a thing.

Ichigo owed Rukia a debt deeper and more personal than anything he'd be willing to admit. Just as quickly as he realized the gap in power that existed between him and the threat to his sisters, she'd been there to close that gap. Saving her life was the least he could have done in return.

He'd come to realize something on his romp through Soul Society, though. His reasons for saving Rukia weren't just to repay a debt. Rukia had been his second chance - the second shot at saving someone important. Someone who mattered. And when he'd done it - when the rain had finally stopped and the night sky shone through the clouds, the animal had lifted its head and howled to the moon.

Rukia had won the loyalty of the animal inside of him. It cried out for him to follow her everywhere she went, and when he couldn't follow it hung its head and sulked. He realized it was stupid. He wore his feelings on his sleeve for everyone to see. He didn't care.

Rukia was his second chance, his redemption, and, damn it, she was the love of his life. He'd devote his sword and his soul to her, and if she cried for a savior he'd cross worlds and fell kingdoms to protect her.

He had no problem with the creature inside of him. Just like Zangetsu - both of them - the beast was a part of him. If anything, it was thankful for it. It gave him drive and propelled him towards the things that he knew meant the most to him. It drove him to Rukia. It drove him home.

And she laughs at him sometimes for the animal; she pokes and prods at how well she's tamed him and made him hers. Still, her gratitude is worth it. From the smallest of things like putting a straw through a juice box to the huge, out-of-this-world acts he'd never be able to do for anyone but her, seeing her depend on, fuss over, and smile at him is enough.

So when he looks down and sees her head leaned against his shoulder on the plane home from their class' graduation trip to Okinawa, he revels in the pride that wells up in his chest. He knows now more than ever that she's enough. She's more than enough.

She's everything.

* * *

 _I've stopped doing this for feedback. I don't really play the waiting game with reviews anymore. I'd rather write just to write._

 _Still, I hope you enjoyed this._


	2. Calm After the Storm

_I figured that if I'm going to keep writing stuff that clocks in at less than 1000 words, I might as well keep it all in one place. Sorry about the abrupt title change (Instinct is now the name of chapter one.)  
_

 _When I take inspiration from prompts, I'll make sure to note where they're coming from. This one in particular was prompted by deathberryprompts on tumblr. While it's not overtly IchiRuki, I figure I made it bloody well obvious that it was intended to be._

* * *

To say that even ruins remained would be an outright lie.

The Winter War, as with all wars, had required sacrifice. Sacrifice of bonds. Sacrifice of life. Sacrifice of happiness. Nothing had been off the table when it came to stopping Aizen's perverted ascension. The Gotei had sacrificed much, and the same could be said for Ichigo.

'Zangetsu' had known that it was much too early for Ichigo to be playing with the way his powers overlapped. Ever since he learned to pull on that mask, he'd just experienced one hardship after the next.

When Grimmjow had first come to Karakura, clouds had begun to gather in the sky thick and grey and nearly blotting out the moon that had come with the return of the Kuchiki girl.

The training with the Vizards had contributed to the dissipation of the overcast, but not by nearly enough. When Inoue had been taken, the feelings of inadequacy had brought the rain in the form of a light summer drizzle back into the world.

The breach into Hueco Mundo had always been a move of desperation, though not of the same noble aspirations as the invasion of Soul Society. 'Zangetsu' recognized his bias against the Shinigami, but the order of their world was much safer than the chaos that the world of Hollows represented. Still, he was powerless to stop his host.

Ulquiorra's words as to Rukia's death had sparked the first flash of thunder roaring in the skies. The shower had rapidly turned into a downpour, and the desperation for power that led to carelessness became apparent in Ichigo's actions.

The rain battered the sides of the buildings that had once reached for the moon overhead, beating them back until all that remained was the shape of that small prison of a hometown. And then Ichigo had the nerve to go and die on them.

The Hollow broke. Feral instincts to protect its own life weaved so tightly to the life of the King had sent it into a frenzy that 'Zangetsu' could not hold back. The rest had been a blur that neither he nor the Hollow cared to remember, but the effects had been apparent.

The rain had vacated in place of a flood. The waters reached for and distorted the skies above, taking the moon out of sight and crushing the residents of the world under its weight. And still the boy cried out to take it one step further; to use the Final Getsuga Tensho.

The world had gone black after that. The flood had passed, the rain had stopped, the buildings had vanished. All that remained was an ever-waning, far-too-far-away moon in the sky and an inky black that stretched on forever in every direction.

The world was quiet now. The king was quiet now. No clarion calls on Zangetsu's name to charge into battle. No buildings reaching to the sky in aspiration of anything beyond stagnation.

And that, 'Zangetsu' supposed, was the way it would remain.

"This fuckin' blows," the Hollow grumbled. If there had been a floor, he might have kicked in his dejection.

"Indeed," came the response.

"So how do you suppose we get out of this, _Zangetsu_?"

"I think we've long since moved past the need for that little charade, don't you?"

"Just answer the question," the Hollow replied, his tone betraying his desperation. He too wanted nothing more than Ichigo to reclaim his powers, it seemed.

"Simple enough," the old man responded, gazing at the far-off moon in the sky. "We wait for who Ichigo is waiting for."

Either from lack of energy or just plain disinterest, the back-and-forth dropped after that. All that was left now was black, the moon, and the gut-wrenching, painstaking, eternal quiet.

* * *

 _Hoping to get the next chapter of RoS out by the Thursday after next. Wish me luck._


	3. Acceptance

_When I wake up tomorrow morning, I'm probably going to think the pacing of this think is shit and way too fast. Too bad it's already been submitted, future me. Now you have to endure it.  
_

 _Written for deathberryprompts on tumblr for the weekly drabble prompt "Release."_

* * *

Ichigo knew deep down in his soul that if he loved something, he had to be willing to let it go.

But when Rukia had told him that the requirement Sode no Shirayuki had set to be able to access her Bankai was death? That was a hard, hard pill to swallow. No, it was impossible to swallow. He refused to swallow it. He'd spit that pill out and crush it beneath his heel.

"No," he barked. "I'm not doing something like that."

"Would you rather I ask someone else to help me with this?" she threatened with fire in her eyes and ice in her voice. "Shirayuki was clear, Ichigo. If I want any chance at defeating As Nodt, I need Bankai. If I want Bankai, I need to pass her test."

"And what kind of fucked up test is that?" he demanded, throwing one hand to his side as if to cast the very idea of it out of his view. "When I learned Bankai, it was all about strengthening my resolve. _Death_ was what happened if I failed."

"Because that was the nature of your sword, Ichigo," Rukia replied. She spared a glance down to her side, almost lamenting at the sight of the Zanpakuto at her side. "Shirayuki is different."

There was a lull where the two simply met eyes, one grasping desperately for understanding and the other trying her best to convey it despite lacking it herself.

Shirayuki was a cold, calculating sort of spirit. She believed that power on the battlefield came from throwing away such petty things as emotions and forming yourself into the perfect machine for combat. Everything was precise; practiced over a thousand times until you didn't need to think about it to do it.

"She told me," Rukia continued, "that I was more suited to use her when I was on the Soukyoku than I've ever been. She said that I'd never be able to use her properly if I couldn't become like that again. If I couldn't…"

"Die?" Ichigo finished, grieved when Rukia nodded and met his eyes.

"Do you think I want to, Ichigo?" She asked, resolve wavering behind deep purple eyes. "I have to. For Nii-sama's sake if nothing else."

"But what about you?" Ichigo pressed, grabbing her at the shoulders and pulling her in close to deepen their eye contact. "What if it doesn't work? What if it's some sort of trick – a test disguised as a different one. What if she's lying to you?"

"Shirayuki isn't like that," Rukia replied, shaking her head long and slow and shrugging to escape his grasp. "She wouldn't ask me to do something if she didn't mean it. There's no getting around it."

Again they stood in silence, Rukia's gaze averted from his eyes in dejection. The moment stretched into an uncomfortable silence, time dragging on until the passing of each second was practically painful.

"It's fine," Rukia lamented. "I'll just go ask Renji or…"

"I'll do it."

She finally met his eyes when he said that, and the doe-eyed shock lent her a beauty that only strengthened Ichigo's conviction. His hand slid down her arm to where Shirayuki rested, sealed away and in its sheath. He drew it out slowly, letting the metal grind against the wood of the scabbard.

"You've gotta promise me one thing, though," he amended.

"What? That I won't get payback?" she teased. "I've already run you through once, Ichigo. If anything, you should be able to do this one more time."

"I'm serious, Rukia," Ichigo leveled. "I need you to promise me you'll come back."

Her hand deftly found its way to the flat of the blade, pulling the point upwards and positioning it at her heart. The look in her eyes was somber, but serious and genuine and so much more.

"Do you think I won't?"

"Just say the words, Rukia!"

His desperation was clear from the way he'd cried out the words, his eyes burned with uncertainty that she knew she should be doing her damndest to dispel.

"I promise you, Ichigo," she caved. "I'll come back to you."

That was all he needed. They shared a nod. He threw his weight into the sword.

He felt the blade press against her sternum before finally penetrating the cartilage fully. Though his hands, he swore he heard metal against bone as the strike nicked her spine. The air rushed from her lungs. Panic carved into her features as her chest heaved, trying desperately to regain the lost breath.

"There is no room for fear in this exercise."

Ichigo threw his head to the side, glaring in the direction of Shirayuki as she decided the opportune moment to manifest herself. Rage welled in his stomach at the sight of her, instinct telling him her name in spite of never having seen her before.

"She's dying!" he shouted through the gasps, half counterargument and half cry for help.

"Then she was never meant to wield me as she is now!" the spirit roared back. "Even when you had your filthy hands on me, you did not give way to some pathetic desire to flee. You felt no rage nor terror when your death came for you. That is a lesson this girl has yet to learn fully!"

"When I," Ichigo paused "had you?"

Whatever air Rukia had managed to regain was lost with a sudden cough and a splattering of blood against her lips and Ichigo's shihakusho. The time for that topic was later. Rukia needed their full attention now.

"What does she need to do?" Ichigo asked.

"It is as I said," the cool reply came, "she is afraid, struggling to live and losing clarity of mind. She needs to cast that fear away along with everything else and regain her focus."

Something clicked in Ichigo's head, and at the way Rukia's eyes dulled and her breathing halted he could tell she understood the meaning behind Shirayuki's words. The thing that had separated her from who she was back on the day of her execution had been resignation – acceptance. Fighting against this would only make it worse. Only by embracing her condition could she hope to overcome it.

"Yes," the sword spirit drawled. "That's the way. Remember what it was like back then. The way you felt on that hill. On that day."

The room grew cold. Both emotionally and physically. If it wasn't for his mass reiatsu offering him protection from the way Rukia's body seemed to be sapping heat from the room, he might have been shivering.

"It's working?" Ichigo asked, noting the way her lips were quickly turning blue and how the frost was taking her raven locks and shifting them to a stark white.

"Yes," Shirayuki replied. "She has resigned herself to her sentence. She should know it now – the name of this Bankai."

Rukia's lips parted, and Ichigo swore he heard ice cracking as they did. Was that supposed to be part of this?

"That's it, child," Shirayuki said, ghosting to Rukia's side as one of her hands caressed the blade that had found rest within its wielder, instantly shaping it into its Shikai without so much as a word commanding it to do such. "Call on my name."

A flash of white. A wave of cold. A burst of mist that caressed Ichigo's face and chilled him to the core.

"Hakka no Togame."

Rukia's Shikai had been among the most elegant things that Ichigo had ever seen. Her Bankai, as it came into view, had taken that and turned the dial up to eleven. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before. All white and ribbons, crown and gown.

The sword had found its way into Rukia's hands, and whatever sign there might have been gone, frozen over and crafted anew along with a body carved of the most beautiful ice. Ichigo felt himself breathe a sigh of relief, the heat from his core sending up another puff of white. His hand rose to her cheek, and in a wave the chill seemed to dissipate from her head centered at the points where his fingers came into contact with her frigid skin.

Curious, Shirayuki thought to herself, it seemed that this boy was quite comfortable in the cold. Perhaps it was because her wielder bore him no ill intent. Some result of his exposure to Shirayuki during his early days aiding his resistance? Or, maybe more likely, simple compatibility between the overwhelming heat of his massive reiatsu shielding him from the worst of her cold and finding balance.

"You're back," he whispered, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Almost had me worried there for a second."

She laughed, a glint in her eye telling him she'd thought something smart of her next words. "You fool," the smile welled in her features, "as if I would make the sort of mistake that would cause you to worry about me."


End file.
